Records and Chains
by ErejeanQueen
Summary: "The first thing you'd expect to see in such an idyllic neighbourhood like this definitely wasn't a boy with a bandaid across his nose, as well as an open popped lip and a bloody scratch on his cheekbone, getting handcuffed and lead away by the police whilst smirking at you. But exactly that was what I saw when I first got out of the car after reaching our new 'home' in Trost."


_A/N: my first real fanfic for this fandom! \(;u;\)_  
><em>I got this idea a few days ago when I rewatched 'Grease' and yeah.<em>  
><em>I already apologize in advance for any grammatical errors and spelling mistakes, since English isn't my first language.<em>  
><em>But yeah, 1950's Erejean for your soul.<em>

* * *

><p>To be honest, I've always dreamt of having a 1957 Ford Thunderbird.<p>

But one that actually didn't have a shitload of bumps and scratches in it, and one that was my own. Not the 'family car'. I mean, sure, I still love our car, but this car definitely wasnt built to fucking transport anything when you were moving. The way I was squished between the shoulders of my dad and Mikasa's should be illegal and I was pretty sure that'd leave bruises.

Moving sucked in general. Especially if you disliked the city you moved into.

This far the only thing I liked about Trost was that the kids from Trost hated those bastards from Titan High just as much as everyone from my former school in Shiganshina. And maybe I was a tad bit excited moving here, considering to the fact Trost was home of the three biggest gangs around; the MP, the Garrison and most important, the Survey Corps. Okay, the Survey Corps weren't the most important, but they were in my opinion.

None of the gangs liked each other, and from the conversation I've overheard at the gas station, it probably really would be better if those three wouldn't ever cross their ways again. Apparently a boy belonging to the Survey Corps had beaten the shit out of some guy from the MP, what was enough to send him off to the hospital.

Still, I really wanted to become member of the Survey Corps as well. If they ever found their way into Shiganshina, I couldn't help but admit how cool they looked.

Speaking of Shiganshina, I really wanted to go back to living there. Visit my old school again and all that.

But since that fire a few weeks ago, in which literally half of the school burned down, they decided not to built up that old building again. And since Trost was at least a thirty minute drive away, my dad decided to move there. Maybe he also just decided to move to cover up his affair he had with the women next door. But according to him, we just moved because "_it'd be better for Mikasa and me, and he couldnt handle living in the house his wife died in either_".

That was funny, because he barely was at home.

Another shitty thing about moving was that Armin, my best friend, wouldn't live right next to me anymore. How the hell was I supposed to get good grades now, if I didnt copy my homework of him?

Okay, it wasn't like he lived a thousand miles away from me, but it still was far away from my new house. What meant he lived _three_ streets away from me, but I didn't have the nerves to stumble through Trost and search for his house when I had no idea where I was actually going.

Eventually we arrived at our new house, and after what felt like a painful eternity I was able to get out of the car.

My butt felt so fucking numb, it was ridiculous.

The first thing you expected to see in such a neighbourhood, which looked like it belonged to some movie, was that some guy in a nice suit and with a briefcase would walk past you, unlock the door to the house he lived in and he'd get greeted by his wife with a freshly made cake in her hands or something.

It just looked way too idyllic.

But instead the first thing I saw after getting out of the car and fixing my letterman jacket, was a boy with a bandaid across his nose, as well as an open popped lip and a bloody scratch on his cheekbone, what all indicated that he had been in a fight.

That boy was taller than me, not much though, and had light brown hair which was shaved at the sides of his head.

Yet I couldn't really figure out what exactly his hairstyle was supposed to be, because it was a complete mess. Partly combed back and fixated with gel, then there were some streaks sticking out randomly and all in one his hair just looked really shitty like that. Judging from his clothes he didn't seem to belong to any gang, and it didn't take too long for me to understand that boy was a punk.

_ Obviously._

Okay, honestly, I didn't quite remember what exactly a punk was since I've never seen one, but what Armin told me from running into a punk back in his hometown London, this definitely was one.

I blinked a few times as I realized the cops behind him and why he held his hands in such a weird manner. They fucking handcuffed him.

Maybe I stared for a bit too long, since I suddenly noticed the boy looked back at me with a sharp gaze. I just stared right back in his goldenbrown eyes and there was an awkward tension from the silence. Yet the silence broke of with the clicking sound the handcuffs made followed by them hitting along with the boys wrists against his wallet chain slightly, and suddenly he smirked at me. I've never seen such a smug smirk before.

Or how someone could be that calm while getting lead away by the cops.

Even as they roughly turned him around and lead him to the car, he turned his head to smirk again at me, before he got pushed down in the police car and the door was shut right in front of his face. And with how the sun shone down on the window, I couldn't see his face and with that his smirk anymore.

What a strange guy.

Eventually I turned around to look at our new house, and how all the furniture my dad somehow brought here earlier stood in front of it.

The first thing I noticed about our house, was that the house next to us was way too close. And then I suddenly knew why that house had been so cheap.

I also knew that I definitely wouldn't chose the room upstairs with the big window, because if I'd look out of it, I'd directly see into the room of our neighbours. If Mikasa already went upstairs to chose her room, then I was fucked.

Instantly I ran into the house and upstairs, not really paying attention to the rest of the house for now. But as I thought, Mikasa had been quicker than me and I let out a short string of cussing as I went into the room with the only open left door. Great. Because who wouldnt like having a stranger being able to look right into your room?

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration as I stood in front of the window, desperately staring at the one right across of mine.

At least the curtains were closed, maybe the neighbours didn't use that room or something. I hoped so.

It took me sometime to somehow get all of my stuff up in my new room, because wow, what a surprise; Dad left after bringing everything inside. I wasn't really surprised either that Mikasa managed to bring everything of her belongings up into her room on her own. And was quicker than me.

I thought about just covering the window with posters since I was still looking for a solution of the problem, but I didn't have that many and it'd look shitty if all of my posters were hung up on one spot. So I just decided to put the small table with my record player in front of it. Also the box where I kept my records.

I flipped through the record covers and pulled out my probably favorite one. And my first one.

It was an Elvis Presley record, and as I stared at the cover something deep inside of me basically _begged_ that whoever lived in that room across of me, would be at least half as hot as Elvis was. But the possibility that this would happen was probably as small as that black haired Survey Corps guy I saw a few weeks ago back in Shiganshina.

A sigh left my lips as I carefully pulled the record out of the cover, putting it down on the record player just as careful and setting the needle down on it. I turned it on, and felt at least a bit more relaxed as soon as the melody of 'Heartbreak Hotel' filled the room.

I sat on my bed, blanky looking down at the cover as I tried to figure out what to do. Because I had no idea what else I could do besides sitting around on my bed and listening to records now that I was basically on my own.

But that didn't last long, soon enough Mikasa popped her head through the door to look at me.

"Eren."

I looked up at her, "What?"

She briefly looked through the room, then at me and she checked my appearance, because there always was something that she needed to 'fix'. May it be my hair, my shirt, whatever.

"Your socks.", she then said after a few moments and pointed at the white fabric covering what was exposed of my ankles "They're dirty."

Looking down, I spotted a small, brownish stain on them what most likely was gasoline.

"That's all you had to say?", I asked, leaning on my elbows. Slightly she shook her head.

"The women from next door brought over some cookies. They're still warm.", Mikasa informed, opening the door some more.

Somehow I had expected something like that to happen.

"I'll come downstairs." Five minutes later I finally got up, putting the record back in its cover and going downstairs as well.

As I went into the kitchen, I could hear the TV announcing _the Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour_. Mikasa watched it everytime it was on, and even if it was called 'Comedy Hour' and was her favorite show, she still didnt laugh watching it.

I took the plate of cookies, joining Mikasa on the couch and nibbling on one of them. Actually, they tasted great. If moving meant getting fresh cookies from your neighbours, I'd move everyday.

"Soo Mikasa..", I spoke up after a while, trying to built up a conversation "What do you think about the gangs around here like y'know, the S-"

"You're not joining any gangs, Eren.", she cut me off, not bothered to remove her eyes from the TV screen, but her left eye did twitch slightly.

"I wasn't even-"

"Yes, you were. The lady next door, you should go thank her for the cookies."

Mikasa pointed at the plate, and by now I had eaten all of them on my own.

"Ehh, its like 7 pm. Maybe even 8. _Way_ too late. Shouldn't disturb a lady at that time. I'll go tomorrow.", I said, simply being too lazy to go over at the moment.

But, Mikasa just accepted it for once and crossed her legs as she nodded briefly.

"Why did she even bring cookies in first place? Not that I wanna complain or something."

"She wants to apologize in advance."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering why. Sometimes I felt like Mikasa could read my mind, because she suddenly said 'I dont know either'.

Creepy.

After some more chatting with her, I decided to go upstairs, take a shower and go to my room afterwards.

Once I was in my room I changed into a pair of boxers as well as a shirt. Deciding that it was still too early to sleep at 10 pm, I sat in front of my desk and started to reorganize my records.

I hummed along the melody of the song that was currently playing, still from the same record as earlier, until I suddenly noticed something rather bright in front of me. And thinking of it, the light just could come from the neighbours turning on the lights.

I looked up from the recordcover in my hand to see a person at the window across of mine pull the curtains away and open the window, that until they saw me. I clutched a little tighter onto the recordcover as I was greeted by a familiar smirk. Now I understood why the lady next door apologized.

I prayed for Elvis and got a punk.


End file.
